A Good Man
by Cheryl W
Summary: Sappy one shots from Lisa Braeden's mother's POV of Dean and his impact on Lisa and Ben.
1. Chapter 1

A Good Man

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Every mother wants her daughter to find a good man and settle down and Lisa Braeden's mother is no different. It doesn't take long for her to see that Dean Winchester, he isn't your ordinary good man.

Author's Notes: I wrote a bunch of sappy one shots from Lisa's mother's point of view of Lisa, Dean and Ben's lives. They start in the 3rd Season episode "the Kids are Alright". It you guys like this one, I'll post more that begin in 5th season and go beyond. I haven't watched any spoilers for Season 6 so this story is my own AU to that season. And I would appreciate no spoilery info in your reviews. I love a good surprise and can't wait for things to be revealed when the new season starts!

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"The" Dean

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Lindsey Braeden hated that she had to overhear gossip to learn something about her own daughter. Following the gossipers' line of sight to a young, unfamiliar man standing beside her grandson, she wondered why Lisa's friends knew abut this Dean guy and she didn't.

Lisa had made it a habit to parade her boyfriends in front of her, each one worse than the last, simply the last men on earth that she would choose for her one and only daughter. And Lisa, she loved how it upset her, her poor choices in men. Even Ben's father had little redeeming traits, save giving Lindsey a grandson she absolutely adored. But to keep him in Ben's life, in Lisa's life? At least Lisa hadn't taken her bad judgment that far, not since Ben was born.

'_Until now,_' Lindsay darkly thought, eyes tracking Dean. She had to give her daughter credit on this one. Dean was gorgeous and drew her attention even across the yard. But there was something dangerous lurking there too, some type of power that he kept a tight reign on.

She laughed out loud as she saw him nearly knock over a trash can in a nervous retreat, destroying his macho man image. Somehow he sensed the attention and his eyes landed on hers amid the running children and gossiping mothers. And he smiled an embarrassed 'you just saw me do that, didn't you' smile and she felt her own lips betraying her. She smiled back.

Then he headed into the house where Lisa was and Lindsey understood why he was "the" Dean. There was more to the man than met the eye, was something there that you wanted to trust.

Later, as she helped Lisa pick up the party carnage in the backyard, she tested the waters. "So that was "the" Dean." It earned her Lisa's surprised, guilty look. "He was the envy of all your friends," she teasingly pointed out, hoping her tone wasn't laced with censure at Lisa's oversight in telling her about "the" Dean.

Lisa gave almost a shy, school girl, happy smile. Lindsay had seen a few girls wear that smile before, like when someone asked them if the hottest guy in the school was their boyfriend and they decided not brag that it was true.

"I don't remember you talking about him?" Again Lindsey tried for lightness, had worked hard for her relationship with Lisa to be this tight, this open, and she didn't want to ruin it, not over some random old boyfriend of Lisa's.

"Was years ago," Lisa dismissively answered but there was a love struck look in her eyes.

"Clearly he didn't forget you," Lindsey gently stated, afraid that her daughter was going to go back to her old ways, would be swayed by a gorgeous face.

"Guess not," Lisa gave a non-committal reply.

It forced Lindsey to press harder. "And the way you watched every move he made today. I can see you didn't forget him either."

"I wanted to make sure he didn't upset anyone," Lisa briskly supplied but her eyes were on the party hats she was stuffing into the trash.

Lindsey snorted at Lisa's poor deflection. "More like you wanted to make sure none of your friends made a move on him."

Lisa's surprised and embarrassed eyes flew up to hers and she sputtered, "Mom?"

Lindsay gave her daughter a mischievous smile. "Admit it, honey. You still have a thing for him."

" A thing? Are we teenage girls?" Lisa scoffed but her coloring was turning higher.

"You're avoiding the question. And hey, I'm not judging you, sweetheart. The guy…" Lindsey gave a wolf call whistle and enjoyed her daughter's snickering. "They didn't make them that good looking in my era."

"Maybe I should have worried about you making a move on him more than my friends?" Lisa challenged, her eyes twinkling with delight.

"He's not the type to like cougars," Lindsey drawled out, pouring regret into her tone.

Lisa gave her mother a playful shove. "Mom, I can't believe you just said that?"

Lindsey shrugged but she didn't dismiss her insight. Then she reached out and grabbed Lisa's hand, effectively drawing her daughter's full focus to her. "You still have feelings for Dean." And it was a statement not a question and though Lisa stilled, she didn't deny it. "So why have you never mentioned him to me, Lisa?" she achingly prodded, left the rest of her evidence unsaid. '_When you always threw every guy you had a rump in the sheets with out to me, brought losers to my table that barely knew what silverware was, guys who had done prison time or most likely were headed for prison.' _

As if Lisa had read her mother's mind, she softly declared, "Dean wasn't like the others."

And in that moment, Lindsey understood. Dean Winchester wasn't worse than all the rest of Lisa's conquests, he was better than them. Too important for Lisa to parade spitefully in front of her, to be lambasted under her revulsion she had for all the one night stand men that her daughter picked up in bars.

With awe Lindsey realized, "You didn't want to hurt him. You didn't want to chance introducing him to me and having me hurt him. Not years ago and not today."

Turning fully to her mother, Lisa implored her mother to understand, to see Dean the way she did. "He comes off all strong but there's something in his eyes…pain. Now more than before. And I…I don't want to see him get hurt. Not because of me."

And it's the most nurturing, protective thing Lisa has ever said about anyone other than her own son.

"He's the one, isn't he?" Lindsey carefully asked but she already knew the answer, even if Lisa didn't.

"The one what?" Lisa tried to deflect but she hid her eyes from her mother's perceptive gaze.

"That you finally let down your guard for," Lindsey gently guessed, gave a tender smile as Lisa's eyes finally met hers. Reaching out, she pushed a strand of Lisa's hair behind her ear like she had when her daughter was a young girl.

"Doesn't matter. I let him go…" Lisa breathlessly said, regret shining in her eyes and evident in the tremble in her chin.

"And he came back. I think that says a lot," Lindsey affectionately theorized, surprised to find herself championing Dean Winchester.

"I have Ben now," Lisa firmly concluded as if that blessing superseded everything else her heart might desire.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you don't have more love to go around. Or that Ben doesn't either," Lindsey tacked on because, she had seen the way her grandson had talked with Dean during the party, how his young eyes had tracked the man's departure with a look of losing something he didn't yet realize he wanted to keep.

"You're actually telling me to get together with one of my old boyfriends?" There was true mirth in Lisa's tone as she incredulously looked at her mother.

"Yeah, but that's solely so I can meet him this time. I think I can change his mind on his cougar standards." And she held back her laughter…only as long as Lisa did.

Then their laughter meshed into a joyful echo across the quiet backyard. It was rare, even in their new reforged relationship: the lightness, the laughter. And Lindsey knew, strange as it was, that she owed Dean Winchester for that moment with her daughter. She found herself hoping that, one day, she would get introduced to Dean and be able to say a proper hello. And maybe thank him for crashing Ben's birthday party and miraculously allowing her to bridge the gap between her and Lisa just a little bit more.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

TBC?

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Thanks for any one who took the time to read this!

If you enjoyed it and want more, I would love to hear from you. I have some more penned but if there is no interest, I'll bury them away with the rest of my unfinished tales.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	2. Chapter 2

A Good Man

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Every mother wants her daughter to find a good man and settle down and Lisa Braeden's mother is no different. It doesn't take long for her to see that Dean Winchester, he isn't your ordinary good man.

Author's Notes: Wow! Thanks so much for the surprising encouragement to update this one shot universe of mine. So to return your kindness here is the next segment. It's set in 5th Season.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Mister Right

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Leaning against the kitchen table, Lindsey watched her daughter fold laundry. "But you like Ben's coach. He's certainly not hard on the eyes," she teased with a jump of her eyebrows. But her innuendo didn't get the type of rise out of her daughter like she expected it to. Instead Lisa faced her with a flash of irritation.

"Why are you suddenly pushing men on me? I thought you always told me to wait for the right one."

Fighting down the urge to become defensive when her own advice was tossed back to her, Lindsey shuffled a little under her daughter's probing stare. "I did. But how do you know this coach guy isn't him?"

Unwaveringly Lisa answered, "I know," like it was something she knew innately.

Recognizing the defiant certainty in her daughter's eyes, Lindsey softened her approach, gentled her tone. "Honey, you haven't heard from Dean in almost two years."

Dropping her eyes to the towels in her hands, Lisa challenged, "Who says he's my Mister Right?"

Lindsey wasn't fooled by Lisa's denials, knew that Dean Winchester lurked behind Lisa's refusal to even give another man a longing look. But she couldn't let it continue, let Lisa waste more time pining away for a man that may never come back "Ok, then start dating. See who is out there in the world," she suggested gently, bracing for Lisa's stinging protests.

Lisa's protests came, but they were delivered quietly, without rancor. "I'm not ready. Ben's still young…"

Not surprised that Lisa was going to hide behind Ben, Lindsey sneakily tossed out, "The coach likes Ben and Ben likes him. You told me that."

Sighing, Lisa rubbed her forehead and slowly relented, "I know but…"

Lindsey knew where the conversation was going, where it always went, even when Lisa didn't admit it. "But he's no Dean," she supplied carefully without judgment. Even so, Lisa's sharp look told her that her daughter didn't appreciate her perceptiveness. Already midpoint to a full fledged fight with Lisa, she decided she didn't have much to lose, had always believed that it was a mother's duty, to make their children accept some harsh truths even when they didn't want to. "I think you have this guy you hardly know on some pedestal that he can't possibly live up to and no other man can compete with."

At her mother's slight to Dean, Lisa's chin came up into a tenacious tilt and her eyes sparked with unshakable loyal. "If other guys can't measure up to Dean, that's not my fault."

Sharply, Lindsey was reminded that, when Lisa made up her mind, that was it, nothing on heaven or earth could sway her. Letting her exasperation show, she shook her head, wondered how it had happened, that Lisa had decided that Dean Winchester was worthy of her highest regard. She wasn't prepared for Lisa's tone to turn soft, vulnerable, for her daughter's eyes to pleadingly seek for a measure of understanding from her.

"Saying yes to another man is like saying goodbye to Dean and I…I'm not ready to do that," Lisa admitted, her voice husky with emotion, with hope, with fear, with need.

Lindsey's heart panged in sympathy at her daughter's acknowledgment, knew that it was a gift, Lisa's openness, her trust. And she understood, had been in love before, had lost that love and had to accept the harsh truth that, sometimes, you had to move on, let go, had to learn to survive on something less than the fairy tale. Had always prayed she wouldn't have to teach Lisa that cruel lesson. '_There goes that wish_,' she bitterly thought before she steeled herself to break her daughter's heart.

"Lisa, Dean hasn't called you…stopped in…made any contact with you for years, " Lindsey pointed out, her voice gentle, sorrowful. Seeking to somehow soften the hurt she was inflicting, she reached out to touch her daughter's face. But Lisa recoiled back, didn't want to be comforted.

"Yes and it was years since we first met until he came back," Lisa contested, her tone harsh with its conviction, with the hurt her mother's faithlessness was inflicting.

Though she didn't want to have to play the bad guy, Lindsey loved her daughter too much not to. "But he didn't stay," she quietly stated, remembered keenly the way Lisa had been distant and jumpy and sad a few days after Ben's birthday party, after her reunion with "the" Dean had ended as quickly, as unexpectedly as it had begun.

Lindsey wasn't prepared for the level of defensiveness in Lisa's tone.

"He couldn't stay, Mom! For reasons I…I can't explain but I know that, if he could have, if he didn't have other people that needed him, he would be here," Lisa emphatically declared, her hands coming to rest on her hips, her stance broadcasting that this was one fight she wasn't going to back down from, wasn't going to let her mother think the worst of Dean.

'_This is going to go worse than I thought_,' Lindsey dejectedly recognized, angry that she hadn't headed this off before now, hadn't figured out, years ago, just how deeply Lisa felt about Dean, how tightly Lisa was clinging to this fantasy of the perfect man. That Lisa believed that Dean was some knight in shining armor off saving people, that he would be there for her and Ben except he had this hero gig to complete first.

Lindsey had worked with men like Dean Winchester before. Men that could paint themselves to be this hero, could make the greatest of excuses for not being with the people they professed to love. Calling it a hero complex would be too humble a title. And faced with that bigger than life persona, it put every woman into the Lois Lane mold: the little woman who had to realize that she couldn't be selfish about keeping her strong super man to herself, not when the world needed him.

"And what if you need him?" she asked bluntly, because Dean Winchester might be "saving the world" but he wasn't there for the two people most important to her. Was letting them high and dry, with just some false _hope_ that he would come back, a vague impression of how he _might_ feel about them. "You don't even have a way to reach him."

However, her words didn't deflate her daughter's devotion, only made her jut her chin out with confidence. "Ben and I are fine because of him. He doesn't need to play the hero for me."

When Lisa said the word 'hero' Lindsey startled, felt like her daughter had read her mind, was just as surprised by the rest of her daughter's words, that Lisa was denying that Dean was a hero, needed to be her hero. "What woman doesn't yearn for a knight in shining armor to ride in and rescue her?"

Lisa gave a bark of laughter. "Come on, it's the 21st century. I want to do the rescuing." But then the humor in her eyes faded, became something desperate, yearning. "I want to save him this time."

Lindsey remembered then, Lisa's belief that Dean had buried wounds, of how protective she was of this man. "You think he needs saving?"

"Yes," Lisa insisted without hesitation, as if it was a conviction that had only grown stronger over the years, with Dean's absence.

Lindsay began quietly, carefully, "In my medic unit in Iraq, there were a lot of soldiers who needed saving and some women, they thought they were up to the job, that if they showed them love it would…heal them. But it's not as easy as that, Lisa. These men they were…scarred, broken. And it was like loving someone who was an addict. They have good days, yes, but they have more bad days, really bad days."

Instead of denying her mother's words, Lisa countered them with passionate faithfulness. "Dean's worth all that."

"Why?" Lindsey petitioned in earnest wonder, wanting to see what Lisa saw, to know what Lisa was clinging to so hard about this one man that had flitted in and out of her life for a mere few days over the course of ten years. The sudden sheen of tears in Lisa's eyes made her breath catch.

"Dean _remembered_ me, sought me out after years had passed. And he was sad that Ben wasn't his son." Lisa gave a bitter laugh, swiped at the tear that had slid down her face. "I had to take Ben's father to court to prove Ben was his son, had to take him back to court each year to get him to pay child support." Shaking her head, she ardently continued to reveal how Dean wasn't anything like Ben's father, "And when I got mad, felt …threatened that he was making a connection with Ben, I told him to leave Ben and I alone, to…to go. But he didn't, wouldn't because he thought we were in danger. Showed up instead and tried to give me his credit card because he thought it would be safer if Ben and I left town."

"Ok, he's definitely not your average jerk of a guy," Lindsey conceded, wondered if it was time to finally press for answers about what happened two years ago, if Lisa would decide not to shut her down from the starting line like she always did. But Lisa spoke in her small window of opportunity.

"No, not at all," Lisa firmly agreed with a shake of her head and a smile broke through the painful set of her features from a moment ago.

It was a lost cause, Lindsey could see that now. Somehow Dean Winchester had entrenched himself in Lisa's heart and there was nothing she could say or do to change that. "So, that's what all your future dates are up against, the Dean Winchester mold?" she lightly teased, conceding a battle she couldn't win.

"Yup," Lisa returned, her smile surging up to blindingly happy as her mother finally understood how she felt about Dean. "If a man comes along and outshines that, then he's Mr. Right."

"So, I'm getting just the one grandkid, huh?" Lindsey joked and Lisa's smile turned mischievous.

"I could tell all the kids in the neighborhood that you like being called Granny, that if they see you they should call it out. You know, to help you fill that void you're apparently feeling."

"Brat," Lindsey snapped, tossing a towel into Lisa's face. And she couldn't help wonder if Dean would show up one day, if he would prove that Lisa's faith in him, it wasn't misplaced at all. Would prove that, sometimes, people didn't disappoint you, that sometimes, they were exactly what you needed them to be, whether it was a hero, or Mr. Right.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Again, I'm just thrilled with the reviews you all gave me on chapter 1. I really didn't expect much interest and you guys bowled me over with all the enthusiasm. Hope you enjoyed this section too.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	3. Chapter 3

A Good Man

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Every mother wants her daughter to find a good man and settle down and Lisa Braeden's mother is no different. It doesn't take long for her to see that Dean Winchester, he isn't your ordinary good man.

Author's Notes: This is set in the 5th Season episode "99 Problems." I've written this thing like three times so sorry if it's mediocre. I needed a chapter to bridge things and this was what I came up with.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Heartbreak

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"But your coach said you're improving," Lindsey continued her pep talk as she followed her grandson through the front door.

"That's the same as saying, better luck next time loser," Ben grumbled, carelessly dumping his baseball mitt on the chair by the door as he headed for the kitchen.

A pang went through Lindsey. She knew how badly Ben wanted to be great at the game, that if heart alone made you a star athlete, her grandson would be team captain. But things weren't that easy, sometimes it wasn't about what you wanted but was about what you were realistically able to achieve. She dreaded the conversation with Lisa that was running through her head, that maybe baseball wasn't Ben's sport after all.

Ben noticed his mother first, sitting on the coach, leg drawn up, eyes distant, unfocused. His young voice achingly asked, "Mom," as he crossed to his mother.

Lindsey's felt a spike of worry. Her grandson was perceptiveness to other's feelings, always knew then his mother needed his strength.

As if coming out of a trance, Lisa blinked, swiped at her face and smiled up at her son, "Hey, how did practice go?"

But Ben wasn't fooled by Lisa's smile anymore than Lindsey was. "Mom, what's wrong?"

Pushing her hair behind her ears, Lisa stood up, denied, "Nothing, sweetheart. I'm just tired. Why don't you go change, then help me get dinner started and tell me about practice." Catching Lindsey's shake of her head, she amended, "Or…not. We can talk about our summer plans."

"What plans? We never do anything exciting," Ben grumbled, his ill humor resumed now that his worry for his mother had abated some.

"This year will be different," Lisa vowed with a desperate resolve to her tone. Then she pulled Ben into her arms, held on tightly like she need to be reassured that he was there, that he was safe.

"Mom.." Ben began, tentative but worried, his unease gaining ground at the way his mother clung to him, almost frantically.

Closing her eyes, Lisa kissed Ben on the top of the head, then seemingly gathered her strength before she stepped back, released her son. Offering up her smile, one that Lindsey saw didn't reflect in her eyes, Lisa bade, "Now hurry up and change or we'll be eating diner at 9 o'clock at night."

For a moment, Ben stood there, meeting his mother's eyes, searching for reassurances and Lisa smiled, nodded her head toward the stairs. Slowly, he went, but not before sending his grandmother a look, a request to make sure his mom was as OK as she was pretending to be.

Having been relegated to observer until then, Lindsey's apprehensiveness grew instead of subsided when her daughter's desolate eyes met hers. Instantly she knew that, whatever had happened, Lisa wanted to shield Ben from it. Watching Lisa bite her lip, struggle to keep her emotions in check, Lindsey didn't move, didn't broach her daughter's personal barriers, didn't want to shatter the control Lisa was still maintaining. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, then the sound of ACDC coming from Ben's room, Lindsey stepped forward wasn't prepared for her independent daughter to fly into her arms, clung to her harder than she had Ben.

"Mom," Lisa's voice trembled, cracked, held a long unused tone of pleading for Lindsey to be super mom, to step in and make everything better.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong? Tell me what's happened?" Lindsey prodded gently, rubbing her daughter's back. Her own heart was thudding painfully with rising fear. Their family of three was OK, so how bad could Lisa's news be?

"Dean…I saw Dean," Lisa brokenly announced. Tightening her grip on her mother, she closed her eyes, wished she could as easily shut out the words Dean had said, what they had implied.

Instantly Lindsey's heart dropped, to the floor. She knew then that it wasn't tragedy that was ripping Lisa apart, but heartbreak. The day had finally come, the day that the infamous Dean Winchester breezed back into town. But, contrary to what she had hoped and Lisa had believed, he had heartlessly destroyed Lisa's delusions, had shown his true colors, had broken her daughter's heart. Cursing Dean Winchester, she was about to tell Lisa that she was truly sorry, sorry that Dean hadn't lived up to her expectations.

Lisa didn't give her the chance.

"He said…he said when he pictured himself happy, it was with me. Me and Ben," Lisa stammered, her voice shattering on every word until it melted away into a sob.

"Shh…shhh..honey," Lindsey soothed, stroking Lisa's hair, her own thoughts scattered to the four winds. That Dean had shown up, out of the blue, and made such a declaration…it was everything Lisa had held out for all these years, for that particular man to say those particular words. It proved that Lisa's faith in Dean, it wasn't misplaced, that her insistence that they still had a connection was founded in truth.

It should have been a time for celebration. Lindsey didn't know why it wasn't, how the very words that were so sought after could bring such pain, why Lisa was reacting to the loving declaration like it was the cruelest words that had ever been hurled at her. "Lisa, I …I don't understand. That's what you've been hoping for."

Inhaling a ragged breath, Lisa tilted her head against her Mother a moment, shoring up her strength. Then, pulling back, she held her mother's loving, concerned gaze. "It was goodbye, Mom," her wavering voice convicted and sorrowful.

"You don't know that. Like you said, he shows up years later…." Lindsey began even as she wondered why she was encouraging Lisa's fantasies, fantasies that she had tried so hard to dismantle. Lisa could be free of the hold Dean had over her. Dean had _released_ his hold on her. And that said something to Lindsey, about Dean, about the man he was.  
"Something was….wrong. I asked…I asked if he was alright and he…said no," Lisa haltingly recounted. Pulling out of Lindsey's touch, she began nervously running her hand through her hair, pacing. "And then he said…" but she broke off, tears pooling in her eyes breaking free to stream down her cheeks, testament that whatever Dean had said, it hurt Lisa, fiercely.

"Let's sit down. You can tell me everything…" Lindsey encouraged tenderly. Her daughter's emotions were too much like a devastating well of grief, were scaring her.

"I held onto his hand …shouldn't have let go," Lisa murmured as if to herself, as if the regret was too great to voice any louder.

But Lindsey heard them and knew the rest, what Lisa wasn't saying. That Lisa thought she shouldn't have let Dean go. Not this time. Not again.

"I should have told him…" Lisa couldn't get the rest of her words out, bowed her head and Lindsey was left helplessly watching her daughter's shoulders shake with her sobs.

"What should you have told him, Lisa?" Lindsey gently prodded, knew that sometimes, the best thing to do was to get it all out, the tears, the heartbreak, the regrets.

Lisa turned her back on her, walked to the table and rested her hands on the smooth surface. Lindsey didn't move closer, knew that Lisa was strong, wanted to be strong even in this, would accept only a measure of comfort from Ben or from her. And she was proud of her daughter for that even as she mourned the loss of her little girl who always wanted her help to solve her problems.

The woman that turned around, faced her was a woman who knew her own heart. And knew it was broken, maybe irreparably.

Lisa's declaration was heartbreakingly earnest and full of regretful. "I should have told him that I loved him, Mom."

At Lisa's confession, tears welled in Lindsey's own eyes. "Oh baby, I'm sorry," she tenderly hushed. As she watched Lisa's strong façade crumble once again, she pulled Lisa into her arms, was allowed that.

Lindsey wished it was a simple skinned knee that she could kiss and make better, that she had the power to heal what Dean Winchester had unknowingly broken in Lisa. But she had lived long enough to know that some things, you didn't get over, ever. You just learned to live with the wounds that were left behind.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Alright I had to take my shot at the angsty farewell Dean and Lisa shared. I hope I did it some small justice.

Thanks for reading and for the kind words that were sent to me about this story!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W


	4. Chapter 4

A Good Man

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Every mother wants her daughter to find a good man and settle down and Lisa Braeden's mother is no different. It doesn't take long for her to see that Dean Winchester, he isn't your ordinary good man.

Author's Notes: **************SPOILER FOR SEASON 5 FINALE.************************

Well now we're into my AU universe after the 5th season. My take is that Sam didn't knock on Lisa's door but walked away.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Buried Treasure

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

The man Lindsey met in Lisa's living room, it wasn't the same man whose eyes she met across the chaos of a eight year old's birthday party. There was something…missing, something gone. Dean was all polite "ma'ams" to her, was all tender touches, soft looks with Lisa, and protective and affectionate with Ben. There were no red flags…except what lurked down deep in his eyes.

Lindsey had spent two years assigned to a medic unit in Iraq, had seen the look Dean Winchester was wearing in a few soldiers' eyes. The soldiers that had gone through the worst of it and had miraculously survived what so many of their fellow soldiers had not, could not. It was a haunted, pained reflection. It was a weight that some men never overcame, never found the strength to climb out of the abyss.

But Dean was a fighter, soul deep, Lindsey could see that. He was wounded, yes, but he wasn't done, had too much strength, too much life…too much love to give to surrender.

All that didn't mean that Lindsey was dropping her guard, was ready to welcome him with open arms. Sure, the way he treated Lisa and Ben, it earned him brownie points but this was her family he had unexpectedly swooped into, was just as likely to swoop out of without warning.

If Lisa and Ben couldn't keep a clear head, see what Dean Winchester was underneath his outward politeness, affectionate smiles, jokes and tenderness, the task fell to her. She knew that Lisa would say she was in her momma bear mode. '_Yeah, like she has any room to talk, the way she reamed out the teacher who let her son wait 5 minutes alone at school to be picked up after practice_.'

So she smiled, made nice and she watched Dean, what he said, how he said it, where he looked, how he responded to questions, how easily he avoided providing answers. And she tagged along, like she was doing today.

Having boldly invited herself to the park with Ben and Dean, she watched the scenery flash by from the backseat of Dean's car, an impressive hunk of black steel from her era. She stroked the leather interior fondly, remembered Sunday drives in such a car, radio blasting from the speakers, waving at friends at the local hamburger joints, excited just to be out on the town. She kept her smile hidden though, didn't want Dean to think he had won some points with her with his car. No, her favor was going to be earned by the young man, every step of the way.

Having been busy reminiscing, she was surprised when Dean pulled to the side of the road and stopped, miles from town. She was about to ask what was wrong with Dean's car when she saw that a car was already on the gravel in front of them, riding low on the right side. It wasn't their car that was having trouble.

Putting the car in park and cutting the engine, Dean looked to Ben and smiled. "Want to learn how to change a flat tire?"

"Really? You'ld let me help?" Ben enthusiastically asked, eyes shining as if Dean had offered, out of the blue, to take him to a major league game.

"Absolutely. Just remember to stay off the road," Dean returned, his tone affectionate. Then he looked over the bench seat to Lindsey. "This won't take more than a few minutes. Is that alright?"

Surprised to be consulted, Lindsey opened her mouth and then closed it before she rambled, "Oh..Oh yeah, fine. I'm not in a rush. Just have laundry on the to-do list…"

"Laundry, so not my favorite thing," Dean sympathized and it jolted Lindsey to think Dean was doing his own laundry, maybe Lisa and Ben's laundry, that he wasn't the type of man who thought such tasks were 'women's work.' She almost didn't catch his next words.

"There's a lot of traffic along here, so if you decide to get out, get out from Ben's side," Dean cautioned and then he opened his door and got out, stepped onto the very highway he just told Lindsey to avoid. Swinging her head around, Lindsey saw from out the back window that there was a small break in traffic, that Dean's nonchalant stroll would get him to the side of the road before the next car breezed by, close enough and fast enough to rock the classic car. "Clearly a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do type of guy though," she said aloud to herself, couldn't help wonder what risks Dean would take that he wouldn't let others take.

Moving to the edge of her seat, Lindsey propped her elbows on the front bench seat and watched as Ben slid to Dean's side. It wasn't the first time she saw her grandson gravitate to Dean, like he was his own personal magnet. Dean's hand came to rest on her grandson's shoulder and Ben leaned into the touch as they approached the car's occupants, a man probably five years Dean's senior, and a teenage boy. She couldn't hear the conversation but she read the body language, the relief the older man was feeling at the arrival of a good Samaritan. '_That's a rarity these days,_' Lindsey allowed, wondered if Dean was doing this for her benefit, to come off as this great guy. She snorted, said aloud, "Yeah, like he's worried about my opinion."

As she watched, Dean turned to Ben, handed him his keys and then Ben was running along the passenger side of the Impala to the trunk. She heard the creak of the trunk opening, and Ben rummaging around, the clank of metal against metal. She almost missed Dean walking back to join Ben in his scavenger hunt, heard the deep rumble of his voice, "The lug nuts are going to be on tight, so let's grab the hammer too, just in case we need it." Then boy and man, loaded down with tools, returned to the car in distress.

Lindsey had never seen her grandson so focused before, not even on baseball. And she worriedly realized why, that Ben didn't want to disappoint Dean, that Dean's opinion mattered to Ben, very much so. '_Don't put him on the pedestal your mother has him on, Ben. I don't want you hurt,_' she silently advised and her breath caught when Ben's young hands slipped from the tire iron. But stronger hands came to rest gently upon Ben's, caught the tire iron and set it back to its task. And together, Dean's strength and Ben's, moved the tire iron, had the lug nuts falling into the dirt and the flat tire sliding from the wheel base. The same set of hands lifted the spare tire in place, spun the tire iron until each lug nut was tight.

And then man and boy were climbing to their feet, were met with the car owner's grateful smile and outstretched hand. Dean shook the man's hand and then the man held his hand out to Ben. Lindsey watched as her ten year old grandson shook the stranger's hand, proud that he had earned the man's respect. She felt herself tear up because she realized what she was seeing, the start of Ben becoming a man.

A few more words were exchanged between the foursome. Dean laid his arm across Ben's shoulders and drew the boy against him. And Ben went willingly, happily, all notion of his manhood dissolving back into adoring child.

Lindsey barely slid back in her seat before Dean and Ben climbed into the car. Then they sat there, in silence, waiting until the previously disabled car in front of them merged back into traffic.

"Why didn't you correct him? Tell him I wasn't your son?" Ben's words were quiet, tentative as if he was reluctant to voice them, even more loath to hear the answers to them.

Dean's head snapped to Ben and Lindsey saw the way the man's features softened as they fell upon her grandson, noted the boy's bowed head, withdrawn posture. Ben's fear was tangible, the happiness of a few seconds ago dimmed at his uncertainty and Lindsey honestly didn't know if she was mad that Dean had let the misconception go or touched that he had.

Dean's voice was gentle but was without a shred of apology when he gave Ben his answer. "Guess I should have corrected him but the truth is, I was proud he thought you were my son." And there was no guile in Dean's eyes, was only that depth of affection that leapt from him to Ben, that made it impossible to think he was offering anything but what was in his heart.

Lindsey saw her grandson's head snap up, saw, even from her vantage point, the wonder and love in Ben's eyes as they met Dean's. "I didn't correct him either. You know why?" Ben challenged, his voice cocky and full of life. He spoke before Dean could. "Because when someone thinks the coolest guy on the planet is your dad, you shut your mouth and let them think that."

Dean's answering smile lit up the car and he tenderly cupped the side of Ben's face with his strong hand. "Thanks Ben," he said, his voice thick with emotions as his thumb stroked Ben's cheek. And then he pulled back, settled his hand again on the steering wheel and pulled onto the road, his wide smile staying in place.

Too considerate to leave his other passenger out of their moment, Dean looked in the rearview mirror, met Lindsey's eyes. "For the record, if the guy thought you were my grandmother, I wouldn't have corrected him either."

Letting out a sputter of laughter at the barb, Lindsey swatted Dean playfully on the back of the head. "Watch it buddy. I believe in not sparing the rod."

Hamming it up, Dean rubbed the back of his head, whined, "ouch." His overacting got Ben giggling.

Begrudgingly, Lindsey found herself smiling, admitting that, dang it, she liked Dean. A lot. Goodness knew, he wasn't hard on the eyes, had a seemingly unlimited well of charm but what she was discovering underneath…that was where Dean's real treasure was buried.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Thanks so much for still reading these one shots! And I loved every single review from last chapter. I wish I knew the right words to put in a reply to such kindness, a way to show the level of gratitude I feel for such surprising support. I guess words fail me but I really owe my bravery to posting anything here to my wonderful supportive readers. Thank you!

As the TBC indicates, I do have more of these one shots planned. I hope that's something you would welcome.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	5. Chapter 5

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Every mother wants her daughter to find a good man and settle down and Lisa Braeden's mother is no different. It doesn't take long for her to see that Dean Winchester, he isn't your ordinary good man.

Author's Notes: Sorry I forget to mention that these one shots are in chronological order. More sap ahead.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

His Life

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Lindsey was about to ring Lisa's doorbell when she heard it: laugher, coming from the back of the house. Skittering around the piles of leaves in the front yard, she rounded the house and then came to a stop, was witness to a shower of leaves. She smiled as Lisa and Ben flung handfuls of leaves at Dean, who, in retaliation scooped up Ben and held the laughing boy in front of him as a shield.

"You wouldn't go through your son to get to me, would you?" Dean taunted. Snuggling his shield closer, he rested his chin on Ben's shoulder.

There was no hesitation in Lisa's laughing reply of "Yup," as she sent a cascade of leaves over her son and the only man who had ever gotten her to play this carefree since she had become a mom.

Suddenly, amid the lightheartedness, Dean's head snapped around toward Lindsey, causing leaves to flutter from their perch on the top of his head. Somehow he had sensed that they weren't alone, that someone was watching, that there might be a threat to the people he cared about.

Lindsey purposefully didn't move, didn't speak, not until the darkness in Dean's eyes morphed to warm welcome, until she was certain the man's instincts declared her a friend instead of a foe. Because for all the ways Dean wasn't a soldier, there were a thousand tells that said he was comfortable on the battlefield, had fought in too many hard, sometimes unwinnable battles to ever let those survival..protective instincts falter.

"I came to see if you needed any help with your yard work," Lindsey remarked, smiling as her eyebrows rose at the disarray that the back yard was in.

Lisa stepped to Dean, leaned against him and looked up at him with such love, such adoration it made Lindsey's eyes burn with tears.

"Dean's new to yard work but I think Ben and I almost got him trained," Lisa saucily offered, her eyes on Dean instead of her mother. She only smiled wider at Dean's fabricated scowl.

"I can see that," Lindsey drawled sarcastically, her eyes scanning the yard hopelessly scattered with leaves. "You know you offered to help me with my yard but I think I can do it just fine on my own," she joked, waving her hand in a forget-it gesture.

Stepping close to Dean, Ben stood up on his tip toes, attempted to whisper into Dean's ear. Immediately, Dean bent down, matched the eleven year old's height and a smile spread across his lips. Then his eyes shifted to Lindsey and the rascal gave her a playful wink, begging her to play along with Ben's obvious "surprise" attack.

And goodness, didn't Lindsey lose her heart to Dean right then and there.

She was still off kilter at the warm regard she felt for the young man when her grandson ran up to her and treated her to a leaf shower. Her surprise was genuine, her growl of outrage not so much. Bending down, she grabbed her own ammunition and became yet another combatant in a battle she knew she had no hope of winning. Not when Dean was clearly on Ben's side, cheated by using his height to dump an armload of leaves over her head.

Half an hour later, they were all spent. Still breathing heavy, Lindsey sat on the porch, looked at the threesome lying on the bed of leaves in the yard, Lisa and Ben contently sprawled upon Dean's chest. And Lindsey felt a matching wave of contentment flow over her. She couldn't remember when she had had such fun. It brought it back, sharply, the life she once had, when Lisa's father had been there, when Lisa was young, when nothing made her happier than being with her family. Watching Lisa, Ben and Dean, she prayed that her daughter's perfect world outlasted her own.

"I say we just torch the whole yard and be done with it," Dean suggested, sounding one hundred percent serious. "No leaves to rake, no grass to mow, easy." He grunted when Lisa elbowed him in the gut.  
Rolling onto her stomach but not shifting off of Dean, Lisa propped her chin on her hand and smiled at Dean, "This is your life now, so get used to it." And it was a statement, a threat, a demand and a promise all rolled into one.

Dean's response was a gentle, almost grateful smile and he kissed Lisa tenderly on the lips.

Perfection, Lindsey realized, wasn't real. Wasn't something to reach for, was something unattainable. But good days, they were a blessing in and of themselves. And so were the people you shared them with.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Thanks again for the awesome compliments on last chapter and for taking the time to read these one shots!

Have a great day! And for those in the US….HAPPY LABOR DAY!

Cheryl W.


	6. Chapter 6

A Good Man

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Every mother wants her daughter to find a good man and settle down and Lisa Braeden's mother is no different. It doesn't take long for her to see that Dean Winchester, he isn't your ordinary good man.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Saved

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

There was no where for Lisa to go but into the ditch, not with the Mack truck bearing down on them in their lane. Then the car went airborne, did a gut lurching dip and impacted with the embankment on the edge of the woods, hood first.

Stunned, Lindsey sat there a moment before she turned to Lisa, frantic to make sure her daughter was alright. "Lisa, are you OK? Your head's bleeding. Anything else hurt? Arms? Legs? Ribs?"

"No, no," Lisa stammered, her eyes critically scanning over her mother as if she was the doctor in the family instead of the daughter of one. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I don't think so. We should probably call…" But Lisa was ahead of Lindsey's thought process, already had her cellphone in hand.

"Dean," Lisa greeted, her steady voice of a second ago shattered now that she didn't think she had to be the strong one any longer, that she could rely on the strength of the beloved person on the other end of the line.

"A truck came right at me and I swerved..we're in a ditch."

"~~~"

"Mom and I are alright," Lisa replied to what must have been Dean's concerned inquiry.

"~~~"

"Longwood Highway."

"~~~"

Then it was amazing, the difference Lindsey saw in her daughter, how Lisa's fear and tension melted away. Dean had unmistakably given Lisa reassurances and Lisa had believed them, believed _him_. She was not expecting to hear Lisa laugh, almost snort.

"If I wrecked the Impala I wouldn't have called you. I would have went to the FBI to be put into protective custody." Lisa smiled harder at Dean's comeback before nodding. "I will," she vowed. "Love you." And though the declaration came out easily, like it was commonplace, was uttered every day, there was a depth of devotion, of truth in the two words that was anything but casual. Ending the call, Lisa looked at her mother, relief shining in her eyes.

"I'll call the police," Lindsey stated, but her daughter's hand captured hers before she could reach for her purse on the floor.

"Not yet, not until Dean gets here," and there was a plea in her daughter's eyes. With a spike of unease, Lindsey wondered where her strong, fiercely independent daughter had gone. "Lisa, the longer we wait, the more likely they won't be able to catch the driver of the truck."

"Please Mom. Please."

Lisa hadn't asked her mother for much since she turned fifteen and even before that, rarely with such desperation. A mother only had so much willpower.

"Alright, we'll call the police in a little while, give them a description of the truck and driver," Lindsey agreed. "Meanwhile, let's see if we can get out of the car."

"I promised Dean we wouldn't move," Lisa earnestly stated, eyes wide with worry that her mother might disobey, might turn her vow to Dean into a lie.

Almost begrudgingly sinking back into the seat, Lindsey waited. She used the time to contemplate how to get it through Lisa's head that Dean was a great guy, yeah, fun, loved Ben, loved her …but he wasn't a super hero, couldn't fly in and rescue her from everything that went wrong in her life, that she was expecting too much from any man, even Dean Winchester.

Then the man himself was there, his black classic car coming to a halt behind them, its rumbling engine still echoing when Dean appeared at Lisa's door. He yanked open the door and Lisa threw herself in his arms like some damsel in distress. But there was no condescending patting on her back. No, Dean hugged her fiercely, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder, his eyes closed, his fear and relief written all over his usually unreadable face.

Then he pulled back, kissed Lisa, not on the lips but on the forehead with such tender devotion and adoration. "I almost lost you," he choked out.

Lisa moved forward, kissed him on the lips, tenderly, before pulling back, cupping his face in her hands. "No, you didn't. I'm not going anywhere, Dean. And neither is Ben."

For a moment Dean didn't react and then he nodded his head, accepted Lisa's promise as if it were something she could promise, that he could believe in when he couldn't believe in anything else. After kissing her on the lips, sealing the pact that had been made between he and Lisa, he smiled that cocky boyish smile of his. "I'm never letting you drive the Impala again. You know that, right?"

Lisa snorted and gave a shove to his chest, as if her strength could move Dean's well muscled frame.

Gently, Dean lifted Lisa from the car into his arms, did it effortlessly, naturally, like it was a familiar duty, rescuing damsels in distress. And he didn't put her down, instead carried her up the incline and sat her in the Impala's safe confines. Then he was by Lindsey's door. Opening it, he smirked "Your turn," and his strong arms slid carefully behind Lindsey's back and under her legs.

"I can walk."

"So could Lisa. That doesn't mean you are going to." Then she was in his arms, and she didn't have one ounce of fear that he would drop her, that she wasn't…safe.

"You're not going to accuse me of hitting on you, are you?" Dean teased, loved bringing up their private joke. "I don't want your card club ladies thinking I'm into cougars, that they have a shot with me."

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you? I still can't believe Lisa told you what I said," but there wasn't censorship but humor in her tone. After all, she had been there when Lisa laughingly imparted that tidbit to Dean, had tried to deny it, for all the good it did. "I owe her for that breach in trust,"

"Oh so do I," he happily gloated as he climbed up the incline with his burden like he was mountain goat, steady and sure.

"Just for that cougar crack, I'm telling Elsa that you think she's a very young eighty," Lindsey threatened.

"That the lady with the drawn on eyebrows?"

Enjoying the rare privilege of getting the upper hand on Dean, Lindsey taunted, "Ah, so she has caught your eye."

Giving a sputter of laughter, Dean sat her down inside the Impala. "I'll go check the damage and call the police."

"Dean, should you…" Lisa began, worry in her tone, worry not for her herself but for Dean.

"Just don't throw out my last name and we'll be fine," Dean downplayed but Lisa reached across Lindsey, grabbed Dean's hand. There was fear in her eyes as they met Dean's, were asking for a promise, for more reassurances under the threat of a new danger that Lindsey didn't understand. But Dean did and he crumbled under Lisa's entreaty, yielded graciously, did it because Lisa needed him to. "I'll stay in the background, let you do all the talking."

"Ok, well than I'll call the police, not you," Lisa stated, left no room for opposition.

Just like that, Lindsey's independent daughter was back, was taking charge. And she knew Lisa was doing it to protect Dean. That, what Lisa had sworn years ago, when Dean was more urban legend than man, was still her goal. Lisa wanted to _save_ Dean, was somehow doing that right then, in ways Lindsey didn't know, maybe would never know.

Pride swelled in Lindsey. Lisa was no damsel in distress, not when someone she loved was in danger. And somewhere along the line, Dean had figured that out, that there was no matching Lisa's strength, her fiercely protective instincts at those times. No, he was smart enough to accept that, when Lisa sought to protect him, his best bet was to comply to her wishes, like he was doing right then.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Lisa, Dean and Lindsey were all sacked out in Lisa's living room, watching the game when the news clip came on, announced that a truck driver confessed to reckless endangerment of a car yesterday. A picture of a man, sporting a black eye flashed across the screen.

Lisa, who was cuddling against Dean's chest, looked up at him. "Confessed, huh?" knowledge and suspicion in her gaze.

"Apparently he wanted a clear conscience," Dean offered up with a straight face, kissed the healing cut on Lisa's brow.

"It's amazing how a little incentive brings out the good in people," Lisa smirked back. Raising Dean's right hand from her leg, she lightly brushed her fingers over his cut knuckles before she chastely kissed them.

As Lisa snuggled back against Dean, her face reflecting her contentment, an expression matched on Dean's features, Lindsey marveled at what was between Lisa and Dean. After all, not many people had the heart to be both, savior and saved.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Have a great evening!


	7. Chapter 7

A Good Man

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Every mother wants her daughter to find a good man and settle down and Lisa Braeden's mother is no different. It doesn't take long for her to see that Dean Winchester, he isn't your ordinary good man.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Family

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"I think they purposefully put everything on sale at the store so you can't use the coupon," Lisa theorized as she maneuvered her car out of the shopping mall parking lot.

About to agree with her daughter, Lindsey was interrupted by the chirp of Lisa's phone.

"It's the garage. Is it OK…" Lisa said to her mother, seeking permission to interrupt their girl talk.

"Tell Dean hi from me," Lindsey consented, smiling.

Activating the Bluetooth through her car, Lisa greeted, "Working late again?"

But it wasn't Dean's voice that filtered through the car, was instead Dean's twenty six year old co-worker's.

"Hey, it's Christian. Dean would kill me if he knew I was calling you but I thought you should know, he's hurt."

At Christian's statement, the very air evaporated from the car.

"How badly is he hurt? What happened, Christian?" Lisa demanded, her hands tightening around the steering wheel.

"That dumb-behind kid, Marcus, didn't set the car on the lift right. The car fell, would have fallen on him if Dean hadn't knocked him out of the way. In my opinion, Dean shoulda let the kid get squashed."

Inhaling shakily, Lisa forced herself to pointedly ask, "Did the car hit Dean?"

"I think it caught him on the shoulder, the way he's not moving it. Course our _caring _boss is more concerned about the client's car than his worker's health." Christian's anger was palpable through the speakers, mixed badly with the fear already permeating the car's small boundaries.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Do not let Dean go back to work," Lisa commanded, knew Dean well enough to know that she needed reinforcements to get him to take care of himself.

"How am I supposed to stop him? You know how stubborn he is," Christian protested, his voice raising.

"Just do it, Christian," Lisa barked, using her don't-mess-with-me tone that Ben always obeyed and Dean usually surrendered to, although with ill-grace.

"Fine. Mission impossible here I come," Christian mumbled before he ended the call.

Lisa's eyes darted from the road to her mother. "It can't be too bad, right? Sounds like Dean's up and around."

Lindsey hesitated. She didn't want to give Lisa false hope, didn't make a habit of diagnosing someone, sight on seen. And besides that, they were talking about Dean here. Someone they both cared about, deeply. She didn't want to get it wrong. Not to mention that Christian was right, Dean was stubborn. Dean contemplating going back to work? That wasn't exactly proof that he was uninjured. "Honey, I'll exam Dean and then we'll both know."

It was like her words were a starting gun going off, had Lisa's foot stamping down on the gas pedal. Gripping the door and putting a steadying hand on the center console, Lindsey wondered if Lisa had been taking driving lessons from Dean. She hoped so because she really wanted to arrive at their destination in one piece.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Lindsey struggled to keep up with Lisa as her daughter bound from the car and tore through the garage door, skirted around cars and car parts to the office like she was following a homing beacon. And maybe she was because it was there that they found Dean.

"Dean, are you alright?" Lisa breathlessly asked, her worry unmasked, as she quickly crossed over to a seated Dean.

"Lisa, what are you doing here?" Dean stammered, straightening his stance in the chair, putting on a stronger front for the new arrivals on the scene.

Crouching down in front of Dean, her eyes scanning over him, Lisa scowled when she noted something she didn't like in Dean's expression, most likely pain. Then her attention left Dean, landed on Lindsey. "Mom, can you check Dean over?" her words half entreaty and half command.

"I'm fine, Lisa," Dean steadily assured but Lisa wasn't buying that anymore than Lindsey was.

"A car practically fell on top of you. That isn't being fine," Lisa sharply countered but her fingers brushed against Dean's cheek tenderly, conveyed to Dean that her anger, it wasn't for him, that she was reveling in the fact that he was there, hadn't been taken from her.

But when Lisa stood up, side stepped Dean and came to stand toe to toe with Dean's boss, there was no warmth left in her gaze. "Dean's told you repeatedly how careless your nephew Marcus is and you've done nothing. Now he almost got Dean killed," Lisa's acidic accusation sharp enough to draw blood, her fisted hands evidence that she wanted to land a blow, would if she didn't get some satisfaction.

Foolishly, Marcus walked into the office at that moment, purposefully entered the lioness's den, as the case was. "If you're in here bad-mouthing me, I deserve to hear it."

Lisa spun on her heels, spat out, "What you deserve is to be fired."

Marcus smiled cockily, sure of his place in the garage. "That's not up to you…or him," he sent a glare toward Dean.

Stepping forward, Lisa protectively placed herself between Marcus and Dean, didn't care that Marcus was sporting skull tattoos and had fifty pounds on her. "You have no business being here! You don't know jack about being a mechanic and even less about being responsible." Dismissing Marcus, she turned again to Dean's boss, growled as she pointed menacingly at Marcus, "You either fire him or I'll tell everyone that it wasn't equipment failure that ruined Tom Fulton's car, that the brakes on Mrs. Reynold's car failed her because of incompetence not a factory recall. You'll be lucky to have any customers left after I'm through."

But Dean's boss jerked to his full height at the blackmail. "Well, if I lose business, I'll have no need to keep Dean on."

At the man's retort, Lindsey's heart dropped. She feared that Lisa had gone too far, that Dean would be angry that he was about to lose his job.

"Actually, Mr. Harper's been bugging me to take over management of his garage when he retires," Dean calmly entered the fray, backing Lisa's play, one hundred percent.

Lindsey watched all the players in the game, held her breath when Dean's boss opened his mouth. She feared the outcome of the Mexican standoff.

"Sorry Marcus. I've given you all the chances I could," the garage owner announced, regret but resolution in his tone as he met his nephew's astonished expression.

Ignoring Marcus' outraged comeback to his uncle, Lisa stalked between uncle and nephew back to Dean's side, wrapped her arm around Dean's back. "Come on, you're taking disability for the rest of the week," she announced. She gave a nod of thanks to Christian, who had cowardly hung out in the corner of the room and kept his mouth shut during the battle.

Though Dean let Lisa aid him to his feet, leaned a little on her, Lindsey suspected that Dean only did so because Lisa would demand that of him, that she be allowed to help him. But Lindsey detected the minuscule pinch of pain that slipped past Dean's facial mask, noted the way he pressed his arm to his side to immobilize his shoulder. Honestly, she wasn't sure which part of her wanted to step in and ease his pain more, the mother in her or the doctor in her.

Forced to trail behind Lisa and Dean as they left the office, she couldn't help smile as Dean teased, "I forgot about that temper of yours. It's been a long time since I've seen it."

Pulling Dean tighter into her hold as if she could protect him retroactively, Lisa countered, "I use it sparingly. Mostly, I save it for some _idiot_ who decides to mess with my family."

"Good to know," Dean drawled, didn't make comment that he had been labeled as family by Lisa. But some of the tension in his frame eased at the inclusion.

"You didn't tell me Mr. Harper offered you a job." Lisa said, was only half successful in not letting an accusation carry in her tone.

Smirking, Dean leaned closer, whispered in Lisa's ear. "Sure but Mr. Harper, he isn't retiring for another five years. Plus, he has two sons that are part owners in the business and are waiting for the old man to kick over so they can run the shop."

Lisa's features shifted from hurt to humor as she shook her head, as if she was chastising herself for not detecting Dean's con a mile away. "You haven't lost your touch," she announced, pride in her voice instead of reprimand.

Skirting by them, Lindsey opened their car's passenger door, watched as Dean slipped out of Lisa's hold to drop into the seat. Sliding into the back seat, she ordered, "Lisa, just go to the emergency entrance."  
"Hey, I'm fine. I don't need to go to the hospital. Put a little ice on my shoulder and I'll be good as new," Dean blithely stated, trying to make it all a joke, to mask that he was in pain.

"Oh, yeah. Ice. You know, that's what I prescribe the most," Lindsey sarcastically retorted but her tone was light, as if she was joining in on Dean's joke. "Nice try, Dean. And we're not taking you to a hospital." She let that statement stand, let him have his moment of relief before she corrected. "You're going to my clinic."

"NO! No way," Dean doggedly declared, his voice as harsh as Lindsey had ever heard it. "I'm not going anywhere that someone might tie me to you. Maybe Lisa hasn't told you, but if someone figures out my real last name, you, Lisa, and Ben will all be in danger."

And it made sense suddenly to Lindsey. '_I should have known what would get Dean so worked up: his need to protect the people he cares about_.' Aloud she offered firm but gentle reassurances to Dean's worry. "I was in the army, Dean. I kept National secrets. I think I can make sure I don't bring your last name up in conversation."

"I didn't mean you would…" Dean began in apology but Lindsey cut him off, hadn't taken offense, couldn't when she knew Dean was reacting out of worry for Lisa, Ben, even her.

"I know that Dean." She paused a moment before she quietly implored, "I've trusted you with my daughter and my grandson. Now it's time for you to trust me."

Lindsey saw Dean stiffen at her entreaty, knew it had nothing to do with pain and all to do with the realization that he had been backed into a corner. That she had found a chink in his armor. She knew that trust mattered to Dean, it mattered a lot.

SNSNSNSNS

As Lindsey examined Dean, he wouldn't meet her eyes, was giving her absolutely no opening to ask about the scars he bore, about the hand shaped burn on his shoulder. A million questions came to her and no answers with them. But she cared enough about Dean to not pry. Many soldiers that had come and gone from her medic unit had had scars. There were some that bragged about how each scar had been earned, like a medal of valor. And others…were like Dean. They endured their pain in silence, thought of the scars as a scrapbook of their failures.

Dean didn't flinch, didn't show one sign of pain as she prodded his shoulder, pressed on the harshly bruised flesh. His tolerance for pain, it didn't surprise her but it hurt her, that the man that had come into her family's lives, into her own heart was so used to agony- of body, heart and soul.

"Your trapezius muscle is deeply bruised and we need X-rays to rule out that your clavicle is cracked," she diagnosed.

"It's not cracked," Dean levelly stated, speaking for the first time since her exam had began. But he didn't meet her eyes, wouldn't.

Dean's certainty only concreted what Lindsey already knew, what every mark on Dean's torso proved: Dean was used to injuries, wounds, was an expert at determining the extent of his own injuries. She wouldn't even have been shocked to find out that he knew how to treat the worst of them, because, some of the scars indicated where stitches had once held his flesh together, stitches like a medic in the field would use, medics who didn't have time or supplies to follow the medical textbooks, not when their patients were lying on some desert floor, dying on them.

But Dean didn't object when she insisted on the X-ray all the same and that almost hurt worse than seeing his wounds, fresh and old, his defeated compliance.

The X-rays proved what she had suspected and Dean had known: no broken bones.

Walking back into the exam room, she grimaced when his head didn't come up, when he sat there, having already pulled on his shirt like he knew he was just about out of there. "Since I know you would toss any prescription I write out for you, here's some muscle relaxants and pain pills," she strove for lightness she didn't feel, two pill bottles in her outstretched hand.

"I don't need them," Dean gruffly returned, focused on buttoning up his shirt.

"Well maybe it's not about what you need," Lindsey sharply countered, earning Dean's startled eye contact. "Maybe it's what you deserve and that's to not be in pain."

Dean's expression softened even as he began to protest, "Lindsey…"

Seeing a rare opening to reach beyond the barriers that were so much a part of Dean, Lindsey spoke frankly. "Whatever you're punishing yourself for, is it worth hurting Lisa, Ben…me? Because seeing you in pain, it hurts the people who love you."

Lindsey's breath caught as Dean paled, knew that her good intentions had inflicted pain upon Dean. She was almost relieved when he bowed his head, gave her a reprieve from the sorrow in his eyes that she couldn't look away from. She nearly flinched when Dean spoke, his voice raw with grief and regret.

"You don't know the sins I have to atone for."

Swallowing, willing herself to not let tears spring to her eyes, she straightened, drew upon the strength Iraq had carved in her, day by day. "Who's demanding this atonement from you Dean? The people you think you wronged? Or just you? Because from where I'm standing, it seems the only person who's blaming you…is you."  
Dean shook his head in denial of her statement but he didn't speak. After a moment, he raised his head, met her eyes. And, for the first time, he didn't bother trying to conceal the agony in their green depths. Lindsey knew that, Dean dropping his walls in front of her, it was a show of trust unlike any other Dean could have offered to her.

"Dean, Lisa and Ben, they don't need some guy on a pedestal that never does anything wrong," she gently stated, fervently wanting him to believe her words. "They need, they want you, someone who's real, who makes his own brand of mistakes but works to undo them, someone who loves them back, in spite of their own shortcomings." Reading the acceptance in Dean's eyes, Lindsey rejoiced that her words had reached him.

And then, in a blinking of an eye, Dean's expression slipped back into its familiar boyish charm. "Guess it's all your years and years of experience that make you so smart."

"Watch it! Lisa will never know which bruises came from the car and which ones I inflict on you," Lindsey sputtered out the threat, pointing her pen light into his eyes. "Now hop off there and let's get out of here. It's my day off, you know."

But before she could vacate the exam room, Dean's hand wrapped around her own, stopping her. Turning, she was confronted with an earnest looking Dean.

"Lindsey….thanks."

And she knew he wasn't thanking her for her medical ministrations, just as she knew she hadn't worked so hard to ease his pain because he was her patient. "Your welcome, Dean," she tenderly returned and then he slipped by her, went to find Lisa who was probably pacing in the waiting room, irate she hadn't had an update.

It was a strange thing, to realize that she had gained a family member almost without her knowledge, that somehow Dean had become a son to her. That, what had occurred that day was simply family taking care of family.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	8. Chapter 8

A Good Man

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Every mother wants her daughter to find a good man and settle down and Lisa Braeden's mother is no different. It doesn't take long for her to see that Dean Winchester, he isn't your ordinary good man.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Hero

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"Stop the car! Stop!" Dean shouted from the backseat, causing Lindsey to slam on her car breaks and frantically search the road ahead for what she almost ran over. Though she saw nothing in her path, she heard her back passenger door swing open.

"Dean what?" Lisa questioned, a tinge of fear carrying in her voice.

"Call 911," he ordered and then he bailed out of the car, took off running.

Snapping her head to the right, Lindsey tracked Dean's progress, saw with a jolt of fear where he was headed: toward a house with flames running across the length of its roof.

The next moment, Lisa shouted out in panic, "Ben! No!"

Turning off the engine, Lindsey surged from the car, followed Lisa, both of them intent on stopping Ben's headlong pace to wholeheartedly follow Dean into a burning building.

But Dean was already interceding, had spun around even before Lisa's shout, insightfully realized that Ben was hot on his heels. Catching the eleven year old boy by the shoulders, he bent over to meet Ben's eyes. "Ben, I need you to stay here," he ordered, his tone carrying, not scorn, but a plea for obedience.

"I can help," Ben insisted, his eyes imploring Dean to let him go with him, proclaiming that he was old enough, strong enough to help him.

Instead of scoffing at Ben's offer, roughly rejecting it out of hand, Dean earnestly agreed, "Ben, I know you can. And the best way you can do that is to stay outside, to be here if I bring someone out of the house, OK?" Dean reasoned, his voice gentle, even respectful of the boy's bravery.

Though Ben complied with a small but firm nod of his head, his eyes stayed locked on Dean's, as if he were afraid that if he blinked Dean would be gone.

Giving Ben an encouraging smile, Dean squeezed the boy's shoulders and then he released him, headed again toward the burning house, left Ben standing there, immobile, watching him. Bounding up the stairs, Dean barely slowed down as he delivered a kick to the front door, did it like he had done the feat a hundred times before. The door, it was no match for his strength, his determination, snapped open under his assault.

Quickly stepping forward, Lisa wrapped her arms around Ben, pulled him back against her chest, ensuring that Ben didn't go after Dean as he ran into the house.

The minute Dean slipped out of sight, Lindsey felt the change in her world, in Lisa and Ben's world. Felt the veneer of safety crumble under the harshness of fear, of the reality that she could lose someone she cared about, that Lisa and Ben cared about. And she wasn't sure if that loss was something any of them could endure.

But Lindsey's military training kicked in, had her scampering back to her car, grabbing her cell phone and obeying Dean's order to call 911. A minute later, as she disconnected the call, she looked to Lisa, saw that her daughter's hold on Ben had tightened, had become desperate. She followed the line of sight of Lisa's transfixed gaze, not to the front door but to the growing amount of flames that were dancing on top of the house.

Ben stood numbly in his mother's tight embrace, didn't fight her restrictive hold, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the door that Dean had disappeared through. If he was taking in a breath, Lindsey couldn't detect it. Ben would stand there forever if he had to, waiting for Dean to come back to him, for the return of the only man that had ever truly loved him like a son.

With a sharp pang of anguish, Lindsey wondered who was holding who back from following Dean, if Lisa was holding Ben back or if it was Ben holding Lisa back.

Then all of their prayers were answered as Dean emerged from the house, and he wasn't alone. He supported a coughing woman on one arm and carried a man over his other shoulder. Breaking free of Lisa's hold, Ben met Dean halfway in the yard, anxious to be near Dean and determined to help like Dean said he could.

"Ben take her to your grandmother," Dean instructed and Ben hurriedly slipped to the woman's other side. Without hesitation, Dean released the woman into Ben's young but strong, trustworthy care.

Ben's small frame didn't falter, and neither did the kindness of his heart. "We've got you. You're gonna be alright," he softly reassured the woman as he guided her away from her burning house.

Pride in her grandson surged through Lindsey at Ben's blatant willingness to help others, at the compassion that came so easily, naturally, instinctively to him. So many of his actions were prompted, not from a desire for praise, but by the innate knowledge that they were the right things to do. And in the past year, she had seen those traits in her grandson grow, knew that they were being nurtured by Dean. That it was Dean who had encouraged and praised Ben's sensitive yet strong desire to ease someone else's pain, to give his strength to someone who had need of it.

Calling on her own nurturing instincts, Lindsey helped the still coughing woman in Ben's hold to claim a seat on the ground. From the corner of her eye, she saw Lisa help Dean ease the man off his shoulder with care. But Lindsey's focus didn't settle on the two strangers that Dean had put under her care, instead she ran her trained eyes over Dean, checked the man for injuries. Only after she was certain that Dean was unharmed did she turn back to the man and woman. Because family, it came first.

Crouching in front of the woman who was struggling to quiet her cough, Dean questioned, his tone careful but insistent, "Is there anyone else in the house?"

Frantically the woman nodded her head, tried to get up. Reaching out, Dean held her in place, did so easily. "How many? Are they upstairs?"

"Two..upstairs," the woman gasped out, her tear streaked features showing signs of shock, her dulled eyes beginning to sharpen in horror as reality sank in: Her house was on fire and part of her family was still inside.

Surging to his feet, Dean directed, "Ben keep her here!" even as he started to run for the house again. A house that now had flames moving down toward the second story windows.

"Dean!" Ben screamed as he came to his feet, ran after Dean. But Dean didn't look back, leapt through the open doorway hazy with smoke, did so seemingly without fear. To Lindsey's relief, Ben skidded to a halt at the porch steps. He had made a promise to Dean, and disappointing Dean, that was something her grandson didn't want to do, ever.

Lindsey was no stranger to heroics. She had seen medics and soldiers alike charge into the open to retrieve a fallen soldier, dodging mortars that created craters in the ground and gunfire peppering the air all around them. But this..this felt…different. Someone she cared about was risking himself…for complete _strangers_. Selfishly, she wanted Dean to remain standing on the lawn, with them, to be safe. Thought it was enough that he had already risked his life going into the house once. Going in again, when the fire was noticeably worse? It stirred something in her that she had not felt before: resentment.

'_Dean, why are you risking your life for someone you don't even __know__?'_ she wanted to shout. It didn't matter that it was hypocritical of her, thinking that. After all, hadn't she done the same thing by going to Iraq, risked her life for the lives of soldiers she didn't know? But having the situation reversed on her, being stuck standing there helpless when a member of her family might die to save strangers, it created a pit of fear in her heart that chilled her down to her toes.

'_Dean's doing what he believes is right…and he's counting on you to do your part_,' she rationalized, forced herself to look away from the house, to crawl over to the unconscious man that Lisa was tending to.

Unexpectedly, a crash resonated through the air.

Snapping her head to the house, Lindsey couldn't swallow her small gasp of "No!" as the house's roof caved in, collapsed through the second level of the house…where Dean had gone.

Someone screamed and Lindsey thought she had, that Lisa had. It took her a moment to realize it was the woman who had let out the shriek of despair.

Climbing to her feet, the woman stumbled toward the house. Ben, however, stepped in front of her, blocked her path. But even as he gripped her arm, prevented her from entering the house, he looked over his shoulder at the door, his entire stance radiating his aching need to do exactly what he was stopping her from doing: to race into the house, to find the person he loved, to save them, no matter the cost to himself.

When Lisa started forward, Lindsey didn't know if Lisa was heading for her son or for the front door. She had never seen Lisa look so…lost before. Fearing the worst, she pushed to her feet, and ran after Lisa. Reaching out, she wrapped her arm around Lisa and pulled her daughter against her. "Lisa…" she breathed, resting her head against Lisa's dark tresses, neither of them able to look away from the front door, to abandon their hope that Dean would reappear there any moment. They flinched in unison as more sections of the house collapsed. Almost in a sign of defiance at their optimism, debris rained down across the open doorway.

"No, Dean!" Lisa brokenly gasped but remained in her mother's grip, was too shocked, too heartbroken to offer up a fight.

Though Lindsey refused to give up her grip on hope, the doctor in her knew that death was inescapable, could catalog the damage smoke and fire and falling beams could inflict on the human body, could inflict on _Dean_. Because Dean, he was just a man, wasn't some superhero impervious to harm, was just a man brave enough to seek to do the right thing.

"Dean!" Ben shouted, his youthful voice ringing out, not with despair but joy. Abandoning the woman's side, the boy raced to his left, to Dean who was approaching from the back yard, who held a baby and a four year old boy in his arms.

Dutifully, Ben reached out, took the baby from Dean's arm, turned around and placed the infant in the happily crying woman's arms. Dean sat the toddler on the ground, watched as the boy ran for his mother's side. Then Ben slammed into Dean, wrapped his arms tightly around the man and seemingly had no intentions of letting go of Dean, ever.

Returning Ben's hug, Dean bent over and chastely kissed the top of Ben's head. When he straightened, Lisa was standing in front of him, immobile, her face tear stained. And then she broke out of her stupor, melted against him, held on to Dean as tightly as Ben already was. Sharply, Dean inhaled, aiming to replace the smell of smoke with the scent of Lisa's hair, of home, of family.

Lindsey approached slowly, didn't want to intrude on the family moment. But when Dean looked up, his gaze warmly welcomed her presence. Then the reckless, soot covered fool who was fighting down a cough smiled, widely and cockily. And Lindsey knew that whoever said that real heroes don't gloat had never met Dean Winchester.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Standing on the side of the lawn as firemen worked to put out the blaze, Lindsey heard her grandson's voice before she saw the boy making his way through the crowd, was surprised to see a paramedic towing behind him.

"He was in the house a long time, getting them out," Ben explained to the paramedic, pride and concern evident in his tone as he stopped in front of Dean.

"Sir, let us look you over, get you on some oxygen."

Dean blinked, startled to find that the paramedic was talking to him, that Ben wasn't alone, had gone on a recon mission without his notice. "I'm good," he proclaimed, though his hoarse voice nearly caused all his listeners to flinch.

Lindsey was about to unleash her firmest doctor tone, insist that Dean go with the medic when someone who wielded more influence over Dean spoke up: Ben.

"Dean, let them make sure you're Ok," Ben used his best I'm-not-going-to-back-down tone, the tone his mother used sparingly but Dean had down to an art form.

"Ben, I'm Ok. I swear," Dean vowed, laying his hand on the boy's shoulder, his eyes kind and his demeanor appreciative of the boy's worry for him.

"Then how come your voice sounds like you've been gargling glass, your eyes are red and you're breathing funny," Ben shot back, turning Dean's knack for being a smart aleck back on him. But that tactic, Lindsey knew it wasn't going to work on Dean, saw that Ben shiftly realized that too.

Suddenly, Ben dropped all the facades, became what he was: an eleven year old boy that had thought he had lost someone he loved. He turned his worried features devotedly up to Dean and simply pleaded, "Dean, please. Just let them take care of you. Please." Reaching out, he slid his smaller hand inside Dean's bigger one.

Dean crumbled under Ben's entreaty. Giving the hand in his a tender squeeze, he agreed. "Ok." As he came to his feet, Ben slipped to his side, coiled his small arm supportively around Dean's torso. Instead of dismissing the boy's assistance, Dean looped his arm over Ben's shoulders and let his surrogate son lead him to the ambulance.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Hours later, Dean was sitting up on the couch, asleep. But he wasn't alone, had a smaller frame pressed against his side, a fragile dark haired head resting on his chest.

Ben hadn't left Dean's side since they had returned home, had trailed Dean from room to room. Then finally, Dean had claimed a spot on the couch, had pulled an unresisting Ben down with him into the soft contours. And though the tv was on, it hadn't kept the man or boy awake.

"So that's the _real_ Dean," Lindsey drawled quietly as she and her daughter stood mesmerized by the endearing sight. "A guy who runs into burning buildings to save strangers and crumbles under the pleas of an eleven year old kid."

Lisa nodded her head, almost too exhausted for words. But then she proudly acknowledged, "Yeah," her happiness easily overriding her exhaustion. "That's Dean..hero…and softie."

Then mother and daughter stole out of the room, leaving the hero and his protégé to their well deserved rest.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Thanks so much for reading this story and for the wonderful reviews for last chapter!

And since the season premiere is fast approaching, my plan is to post the rest of the one shots before Friday.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	9. Chapter 9

A Good Man

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Every mother wants her daughter to find a good man and settle down and Lisa Braeden's mother is no different. It doesn't take long for her to see that Dean Winchester, he isn't your ordinary good man.

Author's note: I'm trying something different on this one shot. I'm still writing from Lindsey's POV but it's a first person take on it this time around. And thanks so much for the overwhelmingly kind reviews for last chapter!

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Trust

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

I never thought Dean would be the person I called. I guess you never know who you'll want help from when things are at their bleakest. And right now, things seem pretty bleak to me, too bleak to drag Lisa into the nightmares running around in my head. When they asked if there was someone they could call for me, I was as shocked as anyone when I said "Dean. My daughter's boyfriend, Dean." But I pull it together enough to make the call myself.

Dean's "Yeah" is an anchor to me, steadies me more.

"Dean, can you pick me up?" I'm trying to control my voice, to not let on that I've been crying, that my co-workers have pulled me aside, have sequestered me in the employee lounge. I'm lucky they haven't called for a psych evaluation.

Dean doesn't asked who it is, knows and his voice is alert and gentle. "Did your car breakdown?" and it's logical for his thoughts to go that way. He's a mechanic, after all, must believe that my calling him is for something formal, not personal.

"No." My voice breaks on the one word and I hate myself for it, bite my thumb to hold back the sob that wants to follow the previous ones.

When Dean speaks again, it's the tone I've heard him use on a hurt Ben, a frightened Lisa. "Everything's going to be alright. Are you at the hospital?"  
Finding the ability to speak because Dean said everything was going to be alright and I believe him, I whisper out a "yes."

"I'm leaving to come get you right now, Lindsey." And that's enough, more than enough for me.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

I try to make myself presentable, not just for Dean but because I have to walk through the clinic to leave. Then I see Dean in the mirror, standing behind me, having quietly stolen into an area that's off limits to anyone not clinic staff. I wipe away a stray tear and turn around. His look, the kindness, the sympathy, the understanding, I almost crumble under it. He reaches a hand out and I put my hand in his and his grip, for all the strength he possesses, for all the hard work those hands do, his grip is light, the squeeze he gives my hand is gentle. And I know I've called the right person to rescue me out of the pit that I'm in. That Lisa would be all worried words, panic where Dean is a silent understanding, reassuring strength in the face of my breakdown.

I guess that my leaving the clinic holding the hand of a young, gorgeous man will be talked about more than my breakdown in the emergency room. I give a shaking, almost unhinged laugh at that, earning Dean's concerned look. But he gives a faint smile, like he knows all eyes are on us. And doesn't that rascal wink at me. I hold my hand to my mouth, fighting the burst of laughter, knowing that there is a high probability that it will switch to tears and I can't risk that. Not again.

Dean opens the passenger door to the Impala for me and I relinquish his hand. I jump at the slap of the door shutting. Slipping into the driver's seat, he purposefully closes his own door gingerly.

"Do you want to go to Lisa's? She'll be home in another two hours or I could call her." I realize then that he's never called Lisa's house his home, has always let the proprietorship remain with her.

"No, my home."

He nods and puts the car in gear, looks to me as I look out the side window.

I talk before I realize that I will. "I've seen a lot in Iraq, the horrible ways for people to die. I push it down, put it away…thought I had. But today…" I shake my head, cutting off my words.

"I know," Dean's raw words vibrate with the unmistakable ache of harsh experience and I look at him, see the look in his eyes that he rarely shows: The haunted, desolate, broken, pained expression. And it's the reason it was Dean that I called, the knowledge I felt in my heart that he, of all people, would understand what it was like to not be able to forget the evil in the world. Though I don't know Dean's past, his eyes tell me what his words never do.

I wipe away more tears. "These…teenagers…they made this….this homemade bomb. Set it out so…so grade school kids would find it. Seeing them…the damage…one dying as his hand gripped mine. I just…I lost count of how many soldiers died on my table, looking so…young."

Dean reaches over, holds my hand. "It's not your fault. You did nothing wrong."

"I didn't save so many of them," my anguish, my guilt bleeding out in my confession.

"I know how that feels," Dean says, his voice husky, carries what my does, "failing to save someone." I realize that Dean's pain, it isn't in the past, is in the present, is right now, is always there. "I know that it's impossible to save everyone. But that doesn't make me feel better about the ones I didn't save."

And it's a telling statement, the words '_didn't save'_. Not for the first time, I recognize all that I don't know about Dean Winchester, and all the things that I do; Like he's a good man, is used to protecting people, loves fiercely and yet hurts deeply.

"How do you live with the failures?" my voice breaks on the question. A desperate need rises in me, to find some path to travel, some peace.

Dean looks to me, swallows. Suddenly I'm not the only one getting emotional. His voice is embedded with hurt and hard won truths. "One day at a time. I try to remember the ones I saved…and I never forget the ones I lost. I owe them that much….and more."

"You saved Lisa and Ben, I know that," I present as evidence, wanting to ease Dean's pain, pain that I unburied in my weakness.

Dean gives me a raised eyebrow of surprise at my knowledge.

"I don't know what you saved them from," I admit and his smile is small but genuine. "Out of all my family, all of my friends, you were the only one on my short list to call today."

"Why?" Dean asks quietly, not with boldness but with utter confusion.

I think '_Something has always told me that you understand what it's like to fight battles that you can't win, to lose everything and still go on, to do your best and it not be enough. Because I saw your scars on your body and the pain glistening in your eyes_.' But what I say aloud is, "You have great references?"

"Really?" Dean returns, his tone light, joking.

"Lisa says you're very perceptive, that you instantly know when she's upset. Ben says that if I have a problem, I should go to you, that you know how to solve just about anything. And Ben's friend from his old neighborhood, he told the girl next door who picks on him that you will kick the butt of anything evil, even if it looks a lot like a girl."

Dean chuckles at that and I know there's a story behind it, one I don't know, maybe will never know. "Yeah, with references like that, why wouldn't you call me for help," he scoffs.

And the levity is there for awhile before the sorrow sets in again, before I ask quietly, "So you're not going to promise that it gets better."

"I don't make promises I know I can't keep," Dean replies just as quietly, sorrow and earnestness and pain in the declaration.

"But you don't quit either, do you? No matter what life throws at you, you never quit."

Dean's snort is dark, bitter. "I've quit a million times. I've given in, given up and bartered away _everything_, hoping it would all end."

It's the last confession I thought I would hear from Dean but I don't question the truth of his words, can't. His expression is too wracked with anguish. "What would end?" I force myself to ask. I have only seen a glimpse of this raw, defeatist side of the man before but it scares me, rattles the security of my world, of Lisa and Ben's world.

Dean's eyes, they mimic the ones I've seen on the battlefield, of soldier's who saw too much, are too broken, in too much agony to go on, who let go, who let themselves go, who accept death rather than cling to life. "The pain. So the pain will end," he bleakly confesses.

I don't like it, to think of Dean in pain. It brings my motherly instincts to the forefront, stirs in me the need to make everything better for someone under my care. "What gets you through the pain?"

"A promise," Dean announces, eyes on the road ahead not on me now, focused on a memory that I'm not privileged to share in. "Lisa. Ben." I'm not prepared for his mercurial change the next second from despair to light, teasing smile. "Not to mention the chance to spread the gossip that you're a cougar after your daughter's man."

"You just couldn't resist winking at me in front of the staff, could you?" I accuse, but a weight is lifting from me, is fading under the knowledge that I'm not alone in this.

"Nope," Dean smugly returned.

But I know that his wink in the clinic, it was a deflection, a smoke screen, a magician's trick, that he wanted the attention to be on him, not me, for the rumors to be about my ill-judgment in my love life, not my mental instability to do my job. "Lisa might think I'm making moves on you."

"You think she'll fight for me?" Dean jokes and I realize its all humor, that Dean doesn't believe Lisa would fight for him.

"To her last breath," I state in all seriousness because Dean should know how much Lisa loves him, that to lose him isn't a pain that I want my daughter to suffer.

Dean's jaw clenches and I don't know what I've said that's wrong. I try to correct it with another joke. "That floozy next door to you, Tiffani, who gets you to fix her broken car and appliances and ogles you the whole time, Lisa is always threatening to make her an apple pie…laced with arsenic."

"No way," Dean denies and I'm about to rant how dare he question me about how well I know my own ndaughter when he speaks again. "Lisa knows I would never condone wasting awesome pie like that."

I laugh and he joins me. Out of all the people that I know, all the people who would have readily helped me, Dean was the only right one for me to call. Who else would have me laughing right now? And no one else would have gotten me to finally believe that, no matter how hard I try, no matter how skilled I am, no matter how much I care, there is no way I can save everyone.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSN

"Oh Tiffani called and said her washer is broken, wondered if you would help her get her spin cycle back," Lisa's bitter sarcasm is rampant in her words as I sit at their dinner table a week later.

"Sure, after dinner," Dean readily agrees, eyes on his food, seemingly missing Lisa's scowl. "Does that give you enough time to make an apple pie for me to take along?" he innocently asks.

Lisa stills.

Dean raises his eyes to her, mischief awash on his features. "But I think we're a little low on arsenic."

Lisa punches Dean on the arm, which only elicits laughter from him. Then my daughter turns her heated gaze upon me. "You told him! That was supposed to be protected under the mother-daughter clause."

"Yeah, and so was the cougar conversation, honey," I shoot back, enjoying that Dean's busy trying to tickle Lisa and Lisa's smacking his hands away.

Turning to Dean, Lisa orders, "You tell Tiffani to keep her hands to herself or I'll tell her myself."

"You gotta admit, I'm pretty irresistible. Take pity on the poor woman," Dean drawls only to taunt Lisa, certainly not for Tiffani's sake.

Instead of denying his claim, Lisa surprises Dean by agreeing with him. "I know how irresistible you are but you're all mine and I'm not sharing. And Mom misquoted me." She sends me a glare, just refrains from sticking her tongue out at me. "I said I would make Tiffani a coffee cake." Turning back to Dean she vows, "I would never do something sacrilegious to your favorite dessert."

"That's what I told your Mom," Dean returns, his smile victorious.

I can just shake my head in defeat.

It's not much of a revelation, that Dean knows Lisa, knows my grandson better than I do. But what's surprising is how much Dean knows about me. He knew the right things to say and to not say to me after my episode at work last week, didn't even press me when I chose to keep it from Lisa. He trusted me to make the right decisions and yet offered to be there if they turned out to be wrong. It's a rare thing, to have someone you can truly count on. And Dean asks for so little back in return.

"Maybe you could use this cauliflower. She'll hardly notice the arsenic in it," I suggest, picking up the glass dish holding the vegetable Dean despises and Lisa forces him to eat for his own good. Dean's raised eyebrow of surprise and gratitude is worth my daughter's indignation over my traitorous siding with Dean. After all, I owe Dean and little by little, I'm planning on paying him back.

"Just for that, I'm going to let you do the dishes," Lisa huffs good-naturedly, reassigning Dean's job to me.

If Lisa sees the wink I offer to Dean, she doesn't comment on it. But it is pretty hard to miss Dean's hearty laugh and joyous smile.

SNSNSNSNSNSN

TBC

SNSNSNSNSNSN

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	10. Chapter 10

A Good Man

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Summary: Every mother wants her daughter to find a good man and settle down and Lisa Braeden's mother is no different. It doesn't take long for her to see that Dean Winchester, he isn't your ordinary good man.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Worthy

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

When the doorbell chimed, Lisa groaned, swiped at the locks of hair dangling in her eyes and unknowingly smeared chocolate on his cheek in the process. Lindsey had the good grace to hold in her laughter until her daughter stalked for the front door, batter bowl still in hand.

The sound of something crashing had Lindsey darting out of the kitchen.

Unmindful of the pieces of bowl and chocolate batter scattered across the floor, Lisa stood frozen in the doorway. A tall, good looking, brown haired man stood on the stoop offering up a tremulous smile as if he was unsure of his welcome.

"Hello Lisa," the man greeted, his tone gentle, tentative.

"Sam…I don't…understand," Lisa stammered, her wide eyes locked onto his features. "Dean said…he thinks…"

"I know," Sam confessed softly with palpable regret and guilt.

With her protective instincts flaring up, Lindsey edged closer, debated intervening, making her presence known. Whoever the man was, Lisa perceived him as a threat, she knew that the second her daughter's stance morphed from shocked to defiant.

"You let him believe you were dead. Do you know what that did to him?" Lisa hissed with anger and indignation.

Lisa never gave him a chance to speak in his own defense.

Sam's head snapped right as Lisa delivered a resounding slap to his cheek. "He mourned for you, Sam. Hard."

Rooted in place, Lindsey was bombarded with questions, felt tremors of shock at the scene unfolding before her, at Lisa's physical attack, at the thought that somehow this was Dean's brother. She couldn't seem to put the pieces together, to make them fit. It couldn't be Dean's brother. Dean's brother was dead. Dean had said so.

"I stayed away to keep him safe," Sam declared with every mark of earnestness, his eyes pools of anguish and his own stance bowed in supplication.

But Lisa's verbal response was sharper than the slap she had unleashed on him. "You want to keep him safe, walk away right now and never come back."

"Lisa," Sam pleaded, seeking her understanding, some how needing her permission.

Instead of cowering under Sam's 6 foot 4 frame, Lisa stepped closer to him, nearly succeeded in crowding him off the stoop. "He's happy now. He doesn't need you anymore. He has me and Ben. And he sure doesn't deserve to be hurt by you all over again."

Lindsey read the surprised pain in the younger man's eyes. Lisa's words, they were a direct hit.

Bowing his head, Sam shifted his stance but he didn't leave, would not leave. He had come for something that he valued more than his own pride. A lot more. Lifting his eyes to Lisa, he tried again, his voice was still soft, still beseeching, but now it carried in it a hoarse brokenness, "I need to see him…"

"He needed you, where were you?" Lisa charged, her tone harsh, her dark eyes flashing with righteous anger. "If you love him, you'll let him be happy…safe. Right here."

Wrapping her hand around the door, she started to close it in Sam's face.

Stepping forward, Sam caught the door with his hand, stopped its motion. Though his move was aggressive, his expression telegraphed desperation. "Dean can reach me at this number," he announced, lifting his hand from the door and retrieving something from his pocket. When Lisa took the card he offered some of the pain in his eyes faded.

Brutally, Lisa crushed the card in her hand and tossed it back at Sam, didn't bother to watch it flutter to the ground. "He won't call you. Don't ever come back here." Then she slammed the door, left Dean's brother standing on her front door stoop.

SNSNSNSNSNSN

The silence held for a long while. Lindsey was determined to not be the one to break it, though her eyes anxiously catalogued every emotion that scampered across her daughter's features.

"You don't understand. You don't have all the facts," Lisa abruptly proclaimed without meeting her mother's eyes.

"I know. I didn't say anything," Lindsey quietly defended herself. Though the truth was, she wanted to say something, badly.

"But you want to," Lisa snapped, knew her mother too well to not know that. Dropping the spoon in the bowl, she sent a challenging glare toward her mother and waited. She didn't have a long wait until her Mom began to state her case.

Drawing in a steadying breath, uncertain how poorly the upcoming conversation might go, Lindsey started with the most important question of all. "That's really Sam, Dean's brother?"

Lisa gave a tight nod in reply, the tension in her body doubling.

"I expected him to be more…cocky, I guess. Like Dean," Lindsey admitted, was still having trouble associating brash Dean with the nervous, pleading young man that had been at Lisa's door.

"He's _nothing_ like Dean," Lisa sharply countered, reacting as if it were an insult to Dean that anyone would dare make a comparison between the two brothers.

Recognizing that she was on shaky ground, Lindsey relented, said carefully, "Since I don't know Sam, I'll have to take your word on that."

Frustration vibrated through Lisa's retort. "We don't have to know him. Just look what he did to Dean!"

The truth struck Lindsey then: her daughter didn't know Sam very well either.

"He lied to him, let him believe that he was dead. Dean's been carrying that guilt for _nothing_," Lisa fumed, her voice rising as her resentment grew, was horrified that Dean had suffered that unbearable hurt for seemingly no reason.

"Sam said he did it to keep Dean safe," Lindsey pointed out, did it quietly, wasn't surprised when Lisa's eyes flared and her next words were rapier sharp.  
"Don't. Don't play devil's advocate. Not about this."

Lindsey raised her hands in surrender but didn't speak, knew anything she said would come out patronizing. But she couldn't stop herself from asking, "So you're not going to tell Dean that Sam was here?"

"No," Lisa answered without a spark of indecision. "All Sam knows how to do is hurt Dean and I'm not going to let him do it anymore."

Though Lisa's protective instincts were never more evident then in that moment, Lindsey suspected there was something more to Lisa's decision other than keeping Dean safe. "You're going to keep the knowledge that Sam is alive from Dean…to keep Dean _safe._"

"Yes. Dean always takes care of us. I can do this to take care of him."

Lindsey almost sighed, wished her daughter could see what was so obvious to her. "Lisa, you're doing the same thing Sam did. You both have good intentions. You both just want to keep Dean safe but you're hurting him by your methods. Dean has carried the terrible weight of believing that he failed Sam, that his brother's death was somehow his fault, that he should have been able to save him. And you're furious that Sam let him carry that guilt…for a year. And yet, you're thinking about letting Dean carry that guilt the rest of his life. Needlessly."

"Sam doesn't deserve him!" Lisa's nearly shouted back, her desperation, her true fear coming to the surface.

Then Lindsey put it together, knew the real threat that Sam presented. "You think Dean will leave, will go with Sam?" she quietly inquired, was hard-pressed not to feel a spark of fear ignite within her at that possible outcome. Lisa didn't answer but her mouth was set in a firm line and her eyes…they were filling with tears. "Honey, you don't know Dean will leave, that Sam's arrival means that."

When Lisa spoke, her voice shook, not with anger but anguish. "Yes, yes it does because it means Sam needs Dean. And Dean, he would never let anyone down who needed him, especially his brother."

"Lisa, Dean's left before and he's always come back. He came back and stayed," Lindsey pointed out, remembered all the years that her daughter pined away for the return of the mythical Dean Winchester. A myth, however, that had turned out to be well worth the long wait.

"Dean's got to be alive to come back to me," Lisa choked out, wiping at the tear that slipped free.

The fatalistic statement put a spike of icy fear in Lindsey's own heart. "You think he'll be in danger if he goes with his brother.

"Absolutely. No doubt," Lisa huffed as if she couldn't believe her mother had to _ask_ that.

Though Lindsey didn't know the type of work Dean did with his brother, she had seen cruel evidence of it: the scars on Dean's torso, the pain sometimes reflected in Dean's eyes. "In danger, like he was before when he and Sam were together?"

"Yes," Lisa emphatically agreed, glad that her mother was finally seeing her point, would soon wise up and stop siding with Sam.

"And yet, Dean stayed safe with Sam, survived. Dean said…well, _believed_ that Sam died saving him. If Sam hadn't…done whatever he did, Dean would have been killed."

"What are you saying?" Lisa demanded, uncertain where the conversation was going.

"Honey, devotion like that, Sam willing to give up his life to save Dean, it says a lot about Sam…and Dean. About the bond they have between them."

"Don't turn this around, don't make Sam the good guy!" Lisa fired back, affronted that her mother was taken in by Sam's puppy dog eyes and pleading words. "He lied to Dean, hurt him."

"Yes, I know that. But sometimes what you do for family…out of love…it gets twisted up. Sometimes you hurt the people that you are trying your hardest to protect. I think Sam really thought he was doing the right thing for Dean."

Lisa scoffed, "Yeah right."

"You're forgetting one thing, Lisa. Sam's lie? It let you and Ben have Dean all this time," Lindsey acknowledged, her gratitude for that gift giving her the ability to cut Dean's brother some slack, to give him the benefit of the doubt. And besides that, Dean loved his brother. To Lindsey, that was proof enough that Sam Winchester was a good man, mirrored his big brother in more ways than also being blindingly beautiful.

"So I'm supposed to be grateful that he lied to Dean, ripped his heart out?" Lisa challenged heatedly. "Just allow him to show up now and take Dean away?"

"Lisa.." Lindsey entreated, reaching out but Lisa skittered away from her touch.

"Just stop. This isn't your decision!"

"You're right," Lindsey admitted carefully. "It's not my decision whether or not Dean goes with his brother. But it's not yours either, Lisa. It's Dean's."

When Lisa stilled, Lindsey hoped that she had reached her daughter, had opened her eyes. But then Lisa stalked out of the room without a word, left her standing in the kitchen, alone.

Fighting down an urge to cry, Lindsey reached into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled card that she had scooped off the front door stoop. Straightening it out, she laid it on the open page of Lisa's cookbook.

As she headed for the door, she sorrowfully wondered how things had managed to change so quickly. How Dean, who had always gone out of his way to do things that would strengthen the relationship she and Lisa shared, might prove to be the catalyst to tear their bond apart, worse than ever before.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

Lindsey was at Lisa's house. But she was not there because Lisa had asked for her presence, no, Ben had. It was if the boy sensed the tension between his mother and grandmother, wanted to make it better. And the truth was, Lindsey hadn't talked to her daughter in two days, not since she had left Lisa's house, not since Sam Winchester had made his miraculous reappearance.

Playing soccer with Ben in the front yard, Lindsey only felt slightly guilty for kicking the ball out of the yard so she could have a few minutes rest while Ben retrieved it. She was more than lenient when Ben stopped to pet the neighbor's friendly dog.

She didn't mean to spy on them, on Lisa and Dean, had just looked up and saw them through the front window. But her breath caught at the sight of the crumpled card Lisa held in her hand.

When Lisa laid the card down, Dean went eerily motionless and Lindsey knew…_knew_ that Dean immediately recognized the handwriting. As Lisa spoke, Dean surged from the chair, faced her and then Dean's questions flew. Lisa's stance wasn't defensive, indicated that she wasn't being treated to an accusatory inquisition.

Though Lindsey knew Lisa must be hurting inside, her daughter was gentle, careful with Dean, for Dean. Reaching out, Lisa rested a tentative hand on Dean's chest, turned her face up to his, her every expression radiating love and concern.

And Dean…he was drowning in immeasurable shock.

When he pulled away from Lisa, Lindsey feared the worst, watched as he ran a hand over his mouth, paced the room for a few strides before he came to a stop, right in front of the card lying on the table. Slowly, he sank back down into his seat. His hand nearly shook as he reached out, touched the card with a feather light stroke as if it were something sacred, might disintegrate under his fingers. Then his decision was made and he unfalteringly picked the card up and pulled out his cell phone.

Immediately Lindsey's eyes were drawn to her daughter. Even from her vantage point she could detect the hitch in Lisa's breathing, saw Lisa fold her arms across her chest, both precursors to a breakdown. When Lisa turned away from Dean, the defeated slump of Lisa's shoulders screamed to the mother in Lindsey to intercede, to help Lisa, to not let her daughter's world shatter apart.

But it wasn't Lindsey that righted Lisa's world. It was Dean.

Dean's grip, it gently coiled around Lisa's delicate wrist. And there was no doubt that Lisa would stop, that she would give him anything that he asked of her.

Lindsey was deathly afraid of that, of what Dean would ask, of what Lisa would _give_.

Dean's beseeching look, it nearly brought Lisa to her knees, had her crouching down at his side, desperate to be close to him, wanting to take some of his fear away, willing to carry some of his load on her shoulders.

From where Lindsey was standing she could read Dean's lips, understood his one word plea, "Stay."

Looking away from the scene before her, allowing Dean and Lisa their privacy, Lindsey wiped a tear away. "Darn you Dean," she cursed but it was an endearment all the same. Because it was a cruel twist of fate that the moment that Dean might well be choosing a different family than her own, that was the moment the last of Lindsey's reserves fell, that she acknowledged just how attached she had become to the young man, realized how much she loved him, like the son she had never been blessed with.

Dean hadn't just proven himself to be a good man. No, he had done something far greater than that. He had proven that he was a man _worthy_ of Lisa's love, of Ben's love. And she prayed that Dean realized that nothing he ever did was going to change that.

Dean Winchester was truly the best man she had ever met.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

The End

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNNSN

Thanks to every reader out there and a thousand words of gratitude for every single review given to this story. Every step of the way I've been amazed at your willingness to let me spin this AU tale, at your encouragement. It's been a lot of fun sharing this with all of you!

Have a great day! And I hope everyone finds a spot in front of a tv tomorrow for the Sixth Season Premiere!

Cheryl W.


End file.
